


Tie a Yellow Ribbon

by elflordsmistress



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Duty, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Keeping a tight lid on those emotions, New to the job, Situation Room stuff that you may have to suspend disbelief for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28876884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elflordsmistress/pseuds/elflordsmistress
Summary: The prequel to 'Return to Africa'.This takes place very early on in CJ’s tenure as Chief of Staff. I want to explore what unfolds when something that feels personal to a lot of people at the White House happens. CJ struggles because she's conflicted about her own feelings, there's a lot going on, and she also feels that she can't afford to appear weak in any way as she adapts to the new job. However, her response deviates from what her peers and colleagues are experiencing - and this causes some friction both ways.
Comments: 42
Kudos: 16





	1. The Situation Room

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve slated this story to start just before the action in 'The Dover Test' (Season Six, Episode 6). It will bleed into it, and then carry on from there. 
> 
> As a quick recap, in the previous episode - 'The Hubbert Peak' - CJ had been roped into learning how to play chess. In 'The Dover Test', news comes during the unveiling of the future Bartlet Presidential Library that the US Peacekeeping compound in Gaza has been attacked and that there has been loss of American life.
> 
> The story I’m dropping into the mix is based on real events. I’ve inserted a few characters from the series, thereby taking a few liberties. 
> 
> Nancy McNally doesn’t appear on the show in Season 6, but I’ve brought her in for my plotline because I really like her. From what I understand, General Nicholas Alexander replaced Admiral Fitzwallace.
> 
> Thank you Luppiters for your support ❤︎

_**Chief of Staff’s office** _  
_**The White House** _  
_**July 25th, 2005** _

“ _What’s this?_ ” CJ called out as she picked up the neatly wrapped package on her desk and walked into Margaret’s office.

“Charlie brought it. He said it’s what you asked for.”

“ _When?_ ”

“After your third chess game ..” Margaret said without looking up from the screen across her desk.

CJ tore off the wrapping and hefted the book from one hand to the other.

“ _Chess for Dummies?_ ” She asked with a laugh. “This isn't what the kid from HUD suggested, is it?”

Margaret didn’t respond, and CJ turned round to look at what had her so captivated.

“I can’t believe this is still going on ..” Margaret said after a while.

CJ shook her head sadly.

“What’s it been? A month?”

“Almost.”

“I was still Press Secretary when the earthquake hit Indonesia in December of 2004. The tsunami waves killed 300 and displaced tens of thousands on the Somali Coast.”

“I remember that.”

“And now here we are six months later. Half a million people starving in drought conditions in Somalia, no functioning central government, rival warlords, and then _this_ happens?"

Margaret nodded.

CJ was running a hand through her hair, on the verge of admitting that she felt guiltily relieved this wasn’t a problem they had to deal with, when Margaret spoke again.

"I dream about them at night sometimes. Faceless people on a boat with armed gunmen."

" _CJ_ .."

She turned around to see Kate Harper standing in the middle of her office.

Her stomach did an uneasy flip as she realized that if she was standing _there_ , Kate's first stop had to have been the Oval Office.

“State just informed us that there's a situation. You’re needed downstairs,” she said. “The President is already on his way down."

"I'll let Senior staff know that the morning meeting is pushed back," Margaret said as she relieved CJ of the book.

"What's going on?" she asked Kate as they headed downstairs.

"Nothing good," was all Kate said. To prove her point she added, "General Alexander, Nancy McNally .. both here.

" _Mr. President_ .." she acknowledged as she took a seat to his left.

"What's going on?" Jed Bartlet asked as General Nicholas Alexander took up a position by the brightly lit screens on the wall.

CJ recognized part of the African map.

" _June 23rd_ .. the United Nation's World Food Program-chartered vessel MV Semlow left the Kenyan port of Mombasa" the General began. "Destined for Bossaso in Puntland."

"Carrying 850 tonnes of rice donated by Japan and Germany," Nancy McNally supplied, reading from her notes.

" _June 27th_ .. the Semlow was hijacked by Somali pirates between Haradheere and Hobyo" the General indicated on the map, "about 186 miles northeast of the capital, Mogadishu."

"The crew included a Sri Lankan captain, a Tanzanian engineer and eight Kenyan crew members."

"The boat was carrying enough food aid for around 28,000 tsunami survivors," CJ interjected.

"Correct," said Nancy. "They made a demand for a half a million dollar ransom - which the WFP refused to pay."

" _Early July_ .." the General continued, "the WFP suspended shipments of humanitarian assistance to Somalia."

The tension in the room escalated as Nancy McNally stood up.

They knew all of this, so whatever was coming next was the reason they'd been called here.

"Ten minutes ago State informed us that Reuters was contacted by phone from an undisclosed location on the Somali mainland by Mohammed Abdi Hassan".

"Mohammed Abdi Hassan?" Bartlet asked.

"He claimed his men are holding the Semlov at anchor and that they intend to release some of the crew and .. one of the American journalists."

The President leaned forward in his seat.

"Are you telling me that American citizens have been held hostage for almost a month and this is the _first_ we're hearing of it?"

"Yes, Sir."

A photo of a brunette flashed onto the screen.

" _Skye Sinclair_ , freelance photojournalist. Works mostly for National Geographic. The best we can ascertain is that she and the other reporter were working together on a human interest story. She is the journalist they plan to release with the crew."

"Do we know who the other journalist is?"

Nancy hesitated long enough for a second photo to flash onto the screen.

"Danny Concannon, on special assignment for the Washington Post. Sir, they've given us the courtesy of a heads up, and considering the relationship between the White House and Mr. Concannon, I'd advocate briefing the Press Corps ourselves before the news breaks."

"CJ .. brief the press," Jed Bartlet said without looking at her.

"Yes, Sir."

"Have they given a timeline for the release?" he asked Kate.

"Not yet, Sir. We'll keep you apprised."

The President's eyes shifted from her to General Alexander and then to Nancy McNally.

"What about Danny Concannon?"

"This just came in. We'll work on it with State," she said.

The President left the room with a curt nod.

"You doing okay?" he asked CJ as they exited into the hallway.

"Yes, Sir. Excuse me .. I'll see you at the unveiling."


	2. Double Whammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions run high at the White House when a US Peacekeeping compound in Gaza is attacked at the same time as they're trying to get information about a hijacked ship in Somalia which has two American journalists on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to blend the action of my plot line with what happens in 'Dover Test' - which was a lot harder than I anticipated because so much happens in that episode. Holy cow! I feel like I didn't watch it closely enough the first time and missed half of what happened! The dangers of bingewatching, I guess! I did lift an entire chunk of dialogue from the episode (after Toby gets sucked into an exchange about the Dover Test with a very hostile White House Press Corps). There's a spat coming up in chapter three between Toby and CJ and I needed some kind of a baseline. Happily after this I don't have to worry about what happens in any particular episode as much. What a relief!
> 
> For those who are into technical details, here's some info about CTF-150, which CJ references in this chapter. Before September 11th, 2001, Task Force 150 was a U.S. Navy formation serving as part of U.S. Naval Forces Central Command. After September 11th, it became a patrol force in the Horn of Africa region. In 2005 it was known as CTF-150 and was supported by France, Spain, Germany, the United Kingdom and United States.

_**Reception for the Unveiling of the Bartlet Presidential Library** _

_**Afternoon of July 25th** _

“Something’s going on ..” Margaret said to Donna as she watched the President, Toby, Charlie, and CJ leave the room with brisk efficiency.

“How do you know?”

“I have a sixth sense about these things.”

“Do you think it’s connected to the Somalia matter?”

Margaret shook her head.

“This is something else. Charlie cleared something with CJ before coming for Toby. This is something new. Something big.”

“ _God_ , how much more can happen in one day?”

“Plenty,” said Margaret. “So many things happen that nobody ever hears about.”

“It’s crazy that it all comes through your office.”

Margaret shrugged her shoulders and skillfully redirected the conversation with "how’d Josh take the news about Danny?”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

“Does he even _know_?”

“He was on the phone all morning. Maybe he missed the briefing. Word on the street is that the Press Corps are upset they didn’t get briefed by CJ about it.”

“It isn’t her job anymore.”

“I know, but this was really personal news for them. I think they wanted to hear it from her and not Toby.”

“They’re having a hard time adjusting to him.”

“Yeah. Bonnie said he wasn’t too thrilled about being told to make the announcement.”

“He wasn’t. I watched it on CSPAN.” Margaret grimaced and drained the last of her champagne. “I’m going back to my office in case CJ needs me.”

“Okay.” 

Donna was adjusting her crutches in order to make a graceful exit when a glass of white wine slid across the high top table at her.

“Sorry I was confused earlier,” Josh said. “I know you drink white wine. I just .. forgot .. temporarily. Temporary amnesia.”

“It’s understandable,” she said. “We’re all feeling the shock, but you’re probably feeling it the most."

"What?"

"You two go back a long time.”

“ _What are you talking about?_ ”

“Danny.”

“Danny? Danny _who_? Concannon?"

"Yes."

"What about him?” He looked between the hand she slipped over his and the eyes welling with tears. “Why are you crying? _Donna?_ ”

“Josh,“ she said as she gripped his hand tightly. “You haven't heard the news ..”

* * *

_**Chief of Staff’s Office** _   
_**Post-Briefing with the Press Corps about access to Dover AFB** _   
_**July 26th** _

  
“Toby,” CJ said from the door of her office. “How’s that search for a new Press Secretary coming?”

“I got rattled and said more than I meant.”

“We were both in that room six months ago. You didn’t like the idea of closing Dover .. and today you couldn’t resist voicing your personal opinion?”

“It’s exactly what I predicted. The Pentagon gets what it wants, we look like we’re hiding casualties.”

“I don’t care about your insights or predictions .. brilliant as they may be.”

“The decision was wron-“

“ _We settled on a message_. I buried my own opinions out there every day.”

CJ passed alongside him to her desk.

“What were you doing back there? Don’t you have a _White House_ to run?”

“The briefing room is not your bully pulpit!”

“I got rattled."

“Yeah, you got rattled, and your ambivalence toward policy came out. You had ambivalence toward the peace plan. Is that why?”

“ _Are you questioning my loyalty?_ ” Toby asked, his voice rising.

“I am questioning your _self-control!_ ” She picked up a few folders. “If you can’t stick to our message - I don’t care if that podium stands empty - I don’t want you out there again,” she added as she swept out of the room

* * *

_**Situation Room** _   
_**Evening of July 26th  
** _

Jed Bartlet looked across the table at Nancy McNally.

She gave him a wistful smile and said, “do you remember how Leo used to say that one day he’d get called to the Situation Room and it would be good news. _We’ll have discovered buried treasure, or it turns out there’s life on Andromeda, and they think we’re going a good job?_ ”

“Yeah,” the President said with a chuckle.

“ _When’s that day gonna come, Nancy,_ he used to say. _When’s that gonna happen?_ "

“What are we doing here, Nancy?” he said, indicating the monitors.

“As General Ruiz told CJ this morning, over thirty-six hours and no secondary attacks on our peacekeepers.”

“That's something. And the other thing?”

Nancy leaned forward and steepled her fingers as she spoke.

“The Kenyan ambassador was due to arrive in Mogadishu yesterday to push for the release of his citizens, but his visit could not be confirmed. Nor could he be reached for comment. Hassan did not specify when either the Kenyans or Skye would be released, but Reuters is reporting him as saying that “when we go we will need the presence of the engineer and the captain since we still have the ship.”

“Go _where_?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“And _no_ mention of Danny Concannon?”

She shook her head.

“The pirates have made the waters off the Horn of Africa some of the most dangerous in the world,” she said as she stood up and made her way to the screen. 

A picture of the Somali coast popped up.

“One thousand, eight hundred and eighty miles of coast and there’s been an escalation in the number of raids,” she explained. “There were just two last year. It’s more than than ten times that this year - and it’s only July.”

“The UN has been forced to stop shipping food and instead has to use unsurfaced roads through northern Kenya. Raising the costs and threatening the survival of half a million people in drought-stricken southern Somalia,” CJ said from the other end of the table.

“They’re striking further and further from the coastline.” 

“So potentially threatening the heavy shipping traffic passing through -.”

“The Suez canal and Red Sea to the north of Somalia and the Indian Ocean beyond,” Nancy finished.

“Where does that leave us?” The President asked.

“Out at sea,” Nancy said. “No pun intended.”

“Well what about CTF-150?”

Nancy shot CJ a pleased look.

“Look at _you_ , asking about the Combined Task Force like you’ve been on the job for years!” 

“Can they help?” CJ returned with a wan smile.

Nancy exhaled.

“At last count they were busy seizing hashish in international waters. But that was early June. There is about to be a change of command from the British to the French in less than two weeks, but we _are_ working that angle.”

“Work it hard, Nancy,” the President said as he rose from table. “Work it hard.”


	3. Yellow Ribbons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CJ struggles with her feelings .. and clashes with Toby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should get on with Chapter 3, because the last chapter feels a little bit like it's just helping me transition my way out of the episode and into the rest of my story.
> 
> The significance of yellow ribbons varies from country to country. For the purposes of this story, they are a symbol of hope that someone missing (even if not a member of the military) will be brought home. A symbol of the ties that bind, if you will. There’s also a personal connection to the 1973 song ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree’ which I grew up listening to - which is about a recently-released jailbird who asks his sweetheart to leave a yellow ribbon tied around a tree if she wants him to get off the bus when he arrives in their hometown.
> 
> I can think of around three different ways CJ might classify her 'relationship' with Danny in retrospect. At some point I may explore the other two in different stories, but for the purposes of this particular storyline this is what feels most fitting.

_**CJ’s apartment** _   
_**July 27th** _   
_**4am** _

CJ startled awake from her dream, exhausted and drenched in sweat.

She peered blearily at the clock and lay back against her pillows, waiting for her heart to stop racing.

 _I dream about them at night sometimes. Faceless people on a boat with armed gunmen_.

She’d started dreaming of people in boats, too, now. 

Only the people in her dreams weren’t faceless.

And it wasn’t only Margaret’s voice she heard in her head, either.

_“When you flirt with me, are you doing it to get a story?”_

_“No.”_

_“Why are you doing it?”_

_“I’m doing it to flirt with you.”_

She grabbed a pillow and rolled over onto it, but it didn't help.

_“What are you holding?”_

_“Josh said you liked goldfish.”_

She took a deep breath and tried a toss in the other direction.

_“I'm going to ignore your list, because I think it’s ridiculous. Also cos I’ve got a crush on you.”_

Clearly her brain was on track to replay every single moment she and Danny had shared, and she couldn’t go there.

CJ sat up and swung her legs out of bed, reaching for her phone as she did so. 

She hated the fact that she had a detail. But they were at her disposal, and she couldn’t sit in the hush of her silent apartment if this was all she could expect from her mind.

She'd be better off getting to the office early and getting a head start on things.

Placing the call she headed for the shower.

The White House was eerily quiet when she arrived at 5AM. Populated only by the guards and one or two over-zealous staffers.

She thought about Toby’s words the night before about guarding her old turf, and suddenly realized that her steps had led her to the briefing room and that she was standing at the podium.

But even as she stood there, she knew that it wasn’t the feeling of standing at the podium that she was after. 

She walked slowly up to the press offices and her breath caught in her throat.

Every single desk had some kind of yellow ribbon or accessory on it.

Danny's old desk had been cleared and a framed photo of him had been placed on it.

Her eyes crossed instinctively over to the doorway leading to the bullpen.

_“Boy, was that the wrong answer.”_

_“Punishing people for their beliefs is the beginning of the end. What’s more you agree with me.”_

_“I don’t agree with you.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Take me out tonight and convince me.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“You heard me.”_

_“I didn’t coz there was .. I was distracted by a thing.”_

_“I’m not going to say it again.”_

_“Then I’m just gonna assume you asked me out.”_

She took a deep breath and turned around - only to be hit by the memory of the time she’d come to pick his brain about the Lydells and they’d been standing in the same spot she was standing in now.

_“Just minding the people’s business ..”_

_“A job you’re uniquely suited for.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_"Goodbye."_

_"See ya ..:"_

But she hadn’t moved, and neither had he.

Her eyes had flicked between his eyes and his mouth and she’d wanted to kiss him so badly.

Suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room and she walked quickly down the steps behind her and out the side door to her right.

She sat on the first stone bench she ran across and took a few deep breaths.

This was totally ridiculous.

It, whatever _it_ was, had been over a long time.

There had been other men in her life.

Simon. Marco, however fleetingly. Ben.

A few others who hadn’t been able to keep up.

She wasn't ready for the next memory when it came.

_“I know about the job offer.”_

_“I figured.”_

_“Known about it for a couple of days.”_

_“Yeah ..”_

_“You don’t wanna be an editor?”_

_“I’m a White House reporter.”_

_“I know, I just thought that by taking a job outside the press room ..”_

The unwelcome realization that she was still harbouring resentment about that crept up on her.

Had she really been that naive back then?

Naive enough to think that he could take a desk job?

Give up something he did incredibly well to _date_ her, when she wouldn’t give an inch? 

She felt the coffee she’d had on her way in sour in her stomach as the thoughts kept rolling.

He’d fallen off the radar - only to be back from hiatus for all of five minutes before dropping the Sharif bomb on her. 

She hadn’t treated him particularly well then, either.

Made sure he knew his place in a way that made her cringe. She pushed that particular memory away very quickly

And when that was over he’d dropped off the radar again.

Simply resurfacing every now and then to leave her ridiculous messages full of chicken noises.

Maybe her original assessment about having a _girlish thing_ for him hadn’t been so farfetched after all, she thought as she ran a hand through her hair.

Maybe that's what happened in cases like this.

The relationship had never really gone anywhere; had always been stymied by their ambition or their particular brand of ethics.

Wrong place, wrong time?

Or maybe she'd been too scared to run the risk and it was all still there.

Locked away in her subconscious.

Just waiting for something like this to break it out of its vault.

Something unfulfilled that had lingered. 

Twisting and morphing until it was an ache compressing her chest that she could do absolutely nothing about. 

_God_ , next the _other_ memories would come - the memories of his mouth on hers - and she might not be able to hold it together if they did.

CJ pulled herself up from the stone bench abruptly, pre-emptively blocking anything else her brain could supply her with.

She had a job to do.

It was someone else’s job to bring Danny home, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by this.

 _She had a White House to run_ , as Toby had bluntly reminded her the night before.

CJ let herself back into the building and slowly made her way towards her office.

But everywhere she looked she saw signs that people were bonding over Danny.

Bonnie and Ginger passed by, whispering animatedly about how Donna was planning to put yellow tape around her crutches. 

They seemed not to notice her.

“Look at what I found on my desk this morning,” Larry was saying to Ed as she walked past them in the hall.

“ _Is that the guy?_ ” Ed asked as he peered closely at the mug he was being shown. 

“Yeah.”

“Good looking guy.”

“He was quite popular with the ladies round here."

They laughed and kept walking.

"Morning, Ms. Cregg," an intern called at her. "Want some yellow gerberas for your -"

She shook her head at him and kept walking.

Breathing a sigh of relief as she reached her office - and beyond grateful that she had made no memories of any kind with Danny in here.

She stopped short in the doorway as her eye fell on Margaret and Carol bent over Gail’s fishbowl.

“Good morning,” she said warily. “Isn’t it a little early to be feeding my fish?”

Carol flashed her a smile as she held up a small tree with a yellow ribbon wrapped round it.

“Do you think it will look better in the middle or off to the side?"

Anger coursed through CJ like wildfire.

“What I _think_ ,” she said as she walked around her desk and plucked the tree from Carol’s hand “is that you should _ask_ before you change the decoration in Gail’s bowl.”

The tree snapped in two as she slammed it on the desk.

“ _This_ ,” she said as she registered Toby entering the room, “is the office of the Chief of Staff. Not the bullpen. Or the Press Room. Or the Mess.”

Carol looked as though she'd just been struck, and she spun on her heel and stumbled out of the office past Toby.

Toby’s eyes followed her for a moment and then he turned to CJ with anger in his eyes.

“Did you just raise your voice at Carol? _AT CAROL?_ "

“Don’t start with me," CJ yelled. "This place has become a shrine. Photos, yellow ribbons, mugs ..”

“Of course it’s become a shrine," Toby yelled back. "People _give_ a crap!”

They caught a streak of royal blue in their peripheral vision and whirled around to see Margaret scurry across the office and close the door to the hallway.

“ _Dirty laundry needs to stay in here_ ,” she cautioned as hurried back to her office.

As that door closed forcibly behind her as well, CJ picked up right where they had left off.

“ _People give a crap?!?_ Are you insinuating I _don’t_?”

“I don’t know. _Do you?_ Has it occurred to you to check in on your _deputy_? Do you even _know_ that he didn’t go home last night? That after hearing from his _assistant_ that one of his friends has been missing for a few weeks he holed himself up in his office listening to the same piece of music for - oh - _twelve hours_!”

CJ shook her head at him in disbelief.

“You’re angry with me because I didn’t brief.”

“ _Damn straight I’m angry with you because you didn’t brief!_ ”

“This is ridiculous! Last night you told me that I needed to stay off my old turf because it was cramping your style.”

“That was _yesterday_ , CJ. I’m talking about the day _before_ yesterday. When _you_ should have briefed the Press about Danny, not delegated it to me.”

“Leo wouldn’t have briefed ..” she said dismissively as she picked up a folder and started leafing through it absently.

“Leo wasn’t _Press Secretary_ before he became Chief of Staff. This is their _colleague_. Danny wasn’t just some _commodity_ you leaked stories to until Greg Brock rolled around and took his place. You had a _close working relationship_ with him.”

The file flew across the desk and bounced off Gail's bowl.

“Well _that’s_ rich coming from you. As I recall you were the first one to gripe about the _optics_ of that close working relationship. You stood in my _office_ , Toby. And _lectured_ me about being too friendly with the press, with Danny.”

“And at the time I was _right_. But that was then and this is -”

“Who’s micromanaging _who_ , now?”

“ _Look,_ I’m not asking you to go out there and have an emotional moment, CJ ..”

“ _And what if I have one?_ _"_

The words slipped out of her mouth before she even realized she was thinking out loud.

Toby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and ran a hand over his head, as if unsure what to say.

“Leo ..”

CJ threw her hands up in the air.

“I get it, Toby. Leo would have handled this differently. I’m not Leo. And you know what? You would _never_ have spoken like this to Leo, so don’t speak like this to _me_!”

Toby exhaled abruptly and ran his hand across his beard.

“After Rosslyn, Leo took Danny with him to the hospital right out of the Press Room. Did you know that? And it wasn’t because he was looking to give him a scoop. People are _hurting_ round here, CJ. _Your_ people. You want this place to reek of confidence? Stop hiding from yourself!"

“I’ll take that under advisement,” CJ said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are we done here?”

Toby’s shoulders dropped as he turned to go.

“I’ll be back for Senior Staff.”

“Okay.”

“CJ?”  
  
He was standing in the doorway when she looked up, and his voice had lost its anger.

“Talk to Josh ..”


	4. The Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CJ is spending time with Josh when she's summoned to the Oval Office.

_**July 27th** _  
_**Late afternoon** _

Strains of Schubert drifted through the hallway as CJ approached Josh’s office.

“Hey ..” she said as she slipped into the room.

“Hey ..”

“You look awful,” she said.

“Er .. thanks?” he said after slight hesitation.

“Did you get any sleep last night? Heard you never went home.”

“Enough to function,” Josh said with a shrug as he swirled a mug on his desk and drained its contents.

“How are you ho-“

She was interrupted by Donna, who popped her head round the door.

“Erin Byrne on line one.”

“I have to take this,” Josh said to CJ as he reached for the phone. “ _Don’t go?_ ”

She nodded and settled back into the chair; working a few kinks out of her back as Josh picked up the receiver.

“ _Hey_ ..”

CJ registered the fact that his voice softened, and found herself trying to tune into the conversation.

“I’m .. you know .. hangin’ in there. No, you should _absolutely_ call whenever you need to. I don’t care if you call me ten times a day, that’s why you have my direct line. I mean it. How’s your mother doing? Yeah? You think she’d be okay with that? I think I need to hear her voice, too.” 

CJ heard his voice crack ever so slightly and felt tears prick behind her eyes as it dawned on her who Josh was talking to.

Their eyes met and he suddenly seemed to realize that she was still in the room and privy to his conversation.

“Erin, I’m gonna call you back later, okay? And I’m gonna call mom. The Chief of Staff is in my office right now and I have to go. Everything we can, Erin. I know .. but we’re going to bring him home, okay? Okay, I’ll call you later.”

He replaced the phone and rubbed his arms up and down his shirt sleeves.

“Danny’s sister,” he said.

“I figured.”

“I was on the phone with her half the night.”

He covered his face with his hands and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets.

“Please tell me I didn’t just lie to her, CJ. Please tell me we’re doing everything we can to bring him home.”

CJ swallowed compulsively.

“It’s complicated, Josh.”

“Yeah ..”

 _"_ Is anyone looking out for you? Do you have anyone to talk to? _Donna?"  
_

Josh cast a glance at the door.

“Donna's not exactly _receptive_ right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I opened a card, hung up one of her calls. She’s acting weird.”

“Are you sure she isn’t struggling with the whole Gaza thing?”

“That too. I don’t wanna to bother her with this. I was kinda hoping I could talk to _you_ ..”

_“You know Danny’s back.”_

_“Yeah, I had an email from him. Any sparks?”_

“Me?” CJ did her level best to hide the ripple of anxiety that coursed through her body. “Sure.”

_Maybe if she could control the direction of the conversation she could pull this off.  
_

“How did you meet?”

“Hah! Erin and I were in the _Harvard Speech and Parliamentary Debate Society_ together.”

“Erin went to Harvard?”

“Yeah. You’d like her. Wild. Fiery. Sharp as a tack. Nothing gets past Erin.”

“That’s how you met Danny?”

“Kinda hard to avoid the family dynamic when you’re dating a twin.”

“Danny’s a twin?”

She wondered how many other things there were about Danny that she had no idea about.

“Yeah.”

“Same hair?”

“Same everything. Maybe bigger teeth?” He shrugged. “We split up when I went to Yale.”

“Did they know where he was on assignment?”

Josh shook his head.

“It wasn’t unusual for Danny to take off for long periods of time. Most recently to places without stable phone or wifi. He called when he could, but mostly he sent postcards.”

“Old school, huh?”

“Old school ..” he said sardonically as he rose from his chair and looked out of his office window. “He’s out there somewhere, CJ, and I have no idea where. What the hell am I going to tell his mother? We don’t know if he’s hurt, we don’t know - ”

 _Please don’t go there_ , she begged him in her head. 

She’d been working so hard not to think about the danger Danny was in.

“She’s going to be too scared to ask me if she’s ever going to see her son again, so instead she’ll ask me if he has clean water. Whether I think they’re feeding him. _What the hell am I supposed to say to that?_ ”

He was bordering on hysteria, and she recognized it as a combination of exhaustion and fear. 

“He’s on a ship carrying 850 tonnes of rice, Josh. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to go hungry.”

He turned on her with eyes which were red rimmed and blazing.

“Are you being flippant?” 

“No .. I ..”

She jumped in her seat as he swept everything off his desk.

“You don’t get to be flippant!” he yelled at her. “He deserves more than some throwaway comment like that. Danny! Danny, who cared about four things in this place. You, his work, me .. and Carol.” His voice dropped a notch. “And he cared about _Carol_ because she cared so much about _you_.” She heard the tears in his voice before she saw them. “ _You don’t get to be flippant, CJ!_ ”

He flung the door to his office open just as Bonnie and Charlie were walking up to it.

Bonnie flipped through a stack of envelopes, handed one to him, and moved on.

Charlie stepped inside and addressed CJ.

“The President wants us in the Oval Office.”

“I’ll be right there. _Josh?_ ”

He looked up from the envelope he had just ripped apart.

“Can we pick this back up after I speak to the President?”

Josh looked at her with vacant eyes and shrugged.

“I have to go do a thing,” he said as he walked out of his office without a backward glance. 

“Is he okay?” Charlie asked as he started replacing things on the desk.

CJ took a deep breath and shook her head as she bent down to help him.

“I got this,” Charlie said softly. “The President’s waiting.”

"Thanks."

She stopped by Margaret's desk on the way to the Oval Office.

“ _Here_ ..” her assistant said as she pressed something into her hand. “Everyone’s wearing one.”

CJ didn’t need to look at what she was holding to know it was a yellow ribbon.

Margaret’s stood out nicely against her blue suit.

She closed her fist tightly around it and kept walking without a word.

In his office, Jed Bartlet looked up just enough to take paperwork from Debbie Fiderer.

“Come!” he said as a tap on the door to his left drew his attention away for a moment.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“CJ, yes. Just a minute,” he added as he turned his attention back to his secretary and handed back signed documents. “That should be the last of them. Thanks, Debbie.”

“Thank _you_ , Mr. President.”

“I hear that you opted out of briefing the press yourself the other day,” he said as soon as she was gone. “I thought I was clear that I wanted _you_ to do it.”

_The President was going to weigh in on this, too? Would this never end?_

“ _Sir_ ..”

“You spent six years working closely with this group of journalists,” he said as he stood and removed his glasses.

“And now they have Toby, who can answer all of their questions.”

“ _CJ_ ..”

_She could feel herself becoming defensive._

“Whatcha got there, Claudia Jean?” 

She hadn’t even realized that she was opening and closing her palm repeatedly as she spoke.

“A yellow ribbon,” she said slowly as she put it on the edge of the desk and held it in place with her index finger. “The place is _exploding_ with yellow ribbons. Everywhere I look, yellow ribbons.”

A look she couldn't quite interpret settled on the President's face, and she had a very strong sense that she'd managed to disappoint him, too.

“People feel they need to do _something_ , CJ. As much for themselves as for others who may be watching for signals that someone else besides _them_ cares.”

“I understand that, Sir, but -“

“Is this personal?”

“No, Sir, it’s absolutely not personal.”

“You know, it’s funny. The last time I asked you that question - _also about Danny Concannon, I might add_ \- you gave me the same answer, and it _was_ personal.”

“And I’m saying it to you again. It’s absolutely not personal.”

“And I’m saying to _you_ that this time it has to be.”

If he saw the hurt look that flashed across her face he ignored it.

“Danny was the senior White House correspondent for part of your tenure as Press Secretary, CJ. Not some random journalist whose last name we don’t even know. There were times in this Administration, _convenient_ _or not_ , when Danny Concannon kept us accountable. And he wrote the book on _Abbey_ , for God’s sake.”

Her sense of mortification rose in tandem with the anger in his voice.

“She _likes him_ , CJ. Hell, _I_ like him. I want it _known_ out there that he’s in the First Lady’s thoughts. That he’s in _mine_. You control the flow of information in and out of this office. This is personal. Am I being clear enough for you _now_?"

She was scrambling to formulate a response, when Abigail Bartlet walked into the room.

“Ready?” she asked, after acknowledging CJ.

He pointed to a pouch beside the paperweights, and CJ felt the breath being knocked out of her lungs as she watched Abbey tip a spool of yellow ribbon into her palm. 

She steadied herself against the edge of the resolute desk and hoped that the other two people in the room wouldn’t notice. 

The President exchanged a small smile with his wife, put a hand to the small of her back, and shepherded her towards the closest portico door.

“Have you picked a tree?” he asked.

“I thought I’d leave that up to you.”

He opened the door and paused.

“I had Debbie pick the extra wide kind,” he said with a glance back at CJ. “I’d like to be able to see it from my desk. Debbie! Charlie!”

They walked into the room, right on cue.

“You can spare Charlie for a while, can’t you, CJ? I’d like him to be there for this.” 

“Of course, Sir.”

“Would you like to join us?”Abbey asked.

“ _CJ has a date with the press_ ,” her husband said as he looked pointedly at his Chief of Staff.

“Yes, Mr. President."


	5. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bough has to break sometime ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journalists of the White House Press Corps here are Chris (female), Steve, Mark O'Donnell and Katie Witt. The first two have no last name listed for them on the Wiki page. There are others in the room but I have no names for them.
> 
> Reference is made to _The Heart Asks Pleasure First _\- which is both a poem by Emily Dickinson and the title of a track from the 1993 film, The Piano. Both are incredibly beautiful in their own right.__

_**White House Briefing Room** _ _**  
**_

_**July 27th** _

_**Early evening** _

CJ buttoned her suit jacket and stepped into the briefing room with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high; determined to make her announcement to whoever she found in the press room. There’d be more than a few people left at this hour, and they’d surely spread the word to those who had gone home for the day.

She wasn’t expecting to find a party underway.

Margaret came down from the press room and stopped her in her tracks just as she'd passed the third row.

She looked her up and down, and CJ saw concern flash in her eyes.

“ _You can’t go in there without it_ ,” her assistant said as she deftly unpinned the yellow ribbon from her own suit and pinned it onto CJ's left lapel.

She stood aside and CJ swallowed once before she put her foot on the first step.

The room fell silent as she stepped into it, and CJ felt a flutter of unease in the pit of her stomach.

Scattered about, Toby, Annabeth, Josh, Donna, Bonnie, Ginger and Carol were conversing with members of the press corps.

Will Bailey was there.

Even Larry and Ed were there. 

Her mind flashed back to Bonnie with a stack of envelopes in her hand.

 _I have to go do a thing_ , Josh had said as he walked away from her.

 _This_ thing.

They hadn’t invited her.

Humiliation collided with a keen sense of rejection as she looked at the sea of faces in front of her.

These were the same people who had given her a standing ovation when she was appointed Chief of Staff.

The same people who had crowded her office just a few days ago - begging her to do something about Toby.

And now _she_ was the pariah?

Her understanding of the loneliness awaiting her in this job magnified tenfold.

“ _CJ?_ "

It was Toby.

She shook herself out of her stupor.

“Yes. Good evening. President Bartlet has asked me to let you know that Danny and his family are very much in his thoughts and the First Lady’s thoughts. As we speak they are tying a ribbon around a tree in the portico that the President will be able to see from the resolute desk. Thank you.”

She started to turn on her heel and then stopped.

She fingered the ribbon on her lapel with her left hand to quell her nerves as she started to speak again.

“And let me say for myself that we are working diligently with the State Department, and leaving no stone unturned to locate and bring Danny and Skye Sinclair home. When there is something tangible to share you will be the first to know. _From me_.”

Her eyes sought Toby’s in the haze of cigar and cigarette smoke, and he nodded with more empathy in his eyes than she’d seen in a long time.

She turned to leave, anxious to get out of there, when she heard someone say her name.

“CJ ..”

She turned back slowly, and found Chris holding out a cup.

“Would you like to stay for a drink?”

CJ was saved from having to respond by Mark O’Donnell, who stepped up to her and offered a choice of white or red wine.

“ _Now that everyone’s here_ ,” he said with a warm smile as he filled her cup, “who’s got stories? Just keep ‘em clean. At least to begin with.”

The standoff dissipated, and for the first time in several hours CJ felt that she was breathing easier.

She meandered over to Toby, who raised his cup at her and invited Donna and Carol to step away and get a refill with him.

It didn’t escape CJ’s notice that Carol avoided making eye contact, but she could only rebuild one fence at a time.

“ _Josh_ ..”

He took a deep breath and turned to face her.

“I kinda lost in there, CJ. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

She gave him the best smile she could muster.

“I’m too wired to apologize properly. Are we good?” 

She squeezed his hand and nodded.

"Stories are starting .." he said.

“He filed for me once,” Katie Witt said from the corner. “I came down with the flu just before an important deadline, and he came over to my place, fed me -“

“For those of you who don’t know,” Steve interjected, “Concannon made a mean chicken soup.”

“It was pretty good,” Katie concurred. “So he fed me, put me to bed, and worked all night on my piece. Thing is, he matched my writing style so well that my editor couldn’t tell. I got all kinds of kudos for filing while at death’s proverbial door. I rode _that_ wave for a while”

“The way I remember it, he didn’t just _feed_ you. He knocked you out with poitín because you wouldn't stop trying to give him pointers."

There was a ripple of laughter in the room as Katie nodded.

“Does anyone remember the poitín smash the night he won the Pulitzer?” Chris asked.

Several hands in the room went up.

“That was also the night he told us he was related to the family that’s been distilling illegal poitín for seven generations,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Yep,” Mark said.

“I vaguely remember being poured into a taxi that night,” Chris said. “What was the name of that stuff? Cooley? Or maybe something with an O in front of it? ”

“ _O’Connell!_ ” Carol piped up.

“ _That’s it!_ ” Steve said with a snap of his fingers in her direction. “ _John_ O’Connell.”

“What I wouldn’t give for some poitín right now ..” Mark O’Donnell mused.

“ _I have some here_.”

They all turned to look at Carol, who smiled as she held two bottles aloft.

“Danny gave them to me the last Christmas he was here. Today could be a good day to break them out?”

_They gave me a goldfish pin, cause I like goldfish. Actually what I like are the crackers, but there was a guy .._

Ginger’s voice intruded on her memory.

“What’s poitín?” she whispered to Toby.

“Irish precursor to moonshine,” he whispered back.

Enthusiasm rippled through the room as Carol passed the bottles down to Mark, and CJ watched everyone down their drinks with gusto and hold out their cups.

“ _John O’Connell’s Small Batch Poitín_ .. “ Mark said with wonder in his voice. “This is the _good_ stuff, Carol.”

He made short work of pouring a shot into every outheld cup, and then raised his own.

“Sláinte."

“Sláinte agatsa," the press corps responded as one.

Clearly they’d done a lot of drinking together over the years.

She heard Josh caution Donna to “ _sip it_ ..” just as Mark issued a reminder to his colleagues.

“I'll just remind you, 72% proof, people. _Easy_ ..”

But by then she’d already sent it down the hatch.

Her eyes watered against the powerful burst of heat in her mouth, but there was something sweet about the aftertaste - and before she had completely registered what was going on, Mark was pouring another shot into her cup with a smile.

He gave her a _you may want to pace yourself_ look - but all he said was “I’m glad you came” before he turned away to refill someone else’s glass.

“Okay, who’s next?” Steve asked. ‘Keep those stories coming ..”

“Who was here on the day that Danny led us through the round robin about the secret plan to fight inflation?” Katie asked with a chuckle.

“Otherwise known as _the day the socratic wonder that is the White House press corps_ ganged up on Joshua Lyman,” Josh added for the benefit of those who hadn’t raised their hand.

The room erupted into laughter and CJ could see that the alcohol was starting to take effect.

“To his credit, Danny did _try_ and talk me out of doing that briefing.”

“Hey .. did I miss all the good stories?”

“We’re just getting started,” Mark said as he poured a shot and handed it to Charlie. “Got anything to share?”

Charlie thought about it for a moment, and then he smiled.

“Danny talked me off a ledge once when I was having lady trouble. Does that count? Told me that if he were in my shoes he’d do his best to just be a _hassle-free guy_. It was good dating advice, as it turned out.”

“Pity he couldn’t take his _own_ advice,” Mark said jovially as he clamped hands down on Chris and Katie’s shoulders. “These two tried for years to set him up with _everyone_ they could think of ..”

“ _They tried_ ,” Steve interrupted,“ but he was pretty blinded by the torch he was carrying fo-“

“For his job!” Katie elbowed him in the ribs before he could say anything else, but CJ felt the journalist’s eyes linger on her with a hint of mistrust in them. “He was so busy trying to outpace the rest of us that he had no time to date. Chris and I tried. We failed.” 

She looked at the other woman for help navigating away from the topic.

Chris smiled and inclined her head as she spoke.

“Danny was capable of inordinate kindness. A friend and mentor to those who needed one. But Katie’s right. He was ruthless when it came to reporting. No matter where the story took him and no matter the personal cost. We all respected him for that.”

She raised her cup.

“To standing your ground in the service of this profession.”

A hush fell over the room momentarily, but before anyone could read too much into it, she added “to Danny!”

“To Danny!”

Charlie and CJ were about to drink when Margaret plucked the cups out of their hands.

“Your day isn’t over,” she said to Charlie, “and you haven’t eaten anything today,” she said to CJ.

She chugged both drinks in quick succession and raised her eyebrows at them when they stared.

“But _you_ can down two of those after, I’m guessing, one or two others, and carry on?” Charlie said incredulously.

“I was voted most likely to drink anyone under the table in High School,” Margaret deadpanned as she took CJ’s elbow and drew her aside. “Carol left a few minutes ago,” she whispered to her. “She was crying. I’d go, but I think she needs _you_.”

CJ slipped out of the room.

She found Carol in her office pulling a CD player off the shelf.

“Carol ..”

“Yes ma’am?”

“You haven’t called me _ma’am_ since you thought I wanted to take a Whiffenpoof home and have my wicked way with him.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Maybe start by turning around so that I can look at you while I apologize?”

Carol turned slowly.

“I should never have snapped at you that way and -“

The tears tracking down her former assistant’s face almost set her off, and she opened the door to her old office and pulled her into it.

Carol perched on the armchair and wiped tears away furiously with the palm of her hand.

“Do you know how many times they spoke about Danny in the past tense up there? That was more like a wake.”

CJ leaned her head against the doorway and felt the constriction in her chest return with a vengeance.

She placed her hand on Carol’s shoulder for a moment and then moved past her to sit on the couch.

Letting her head drop back and giving Carol time to pull herself together. 

She wasn't expecting the next question when it came.

“How are _you_ doing?” 

CJ felt a bubble of emotion fight to surface. And the harder she fought to clamp it down the bigger it became. Bigger and bigger until it felt like it was choking her and that she might snap in two from the sheer effort of trying to contain it.

She stopped fighting when she felt Carol take her hand.

“You know, you’re the only person who’s asked me that.”

“Nobody knows ..”

“Katie Witt knows. Chris, Steve, Mark, they know.”

“They only _think_ they know.”

“And you know what the most ridiculous thing is? It never went anywhere, so actually everybody just _thinks_ they know when there is really nothing _to_ know.”

“I don’t believe that’s true. I think there's lots to know if you know what you're looking at."

CJ shook her head.

"I sat out there, CJ. It was written all over his face every time you had an argument, every time the reality of your jobs came between you. He always announced his intentions whenever he was after a story, no matter how bad it was and even if he knew it would continue to drive a wedge between you. Chris wasn’t exaggerating. He paid a price for the work he did. The cost was personal and it was huge. You only ever saw him come in, you never saw him leave. _I_ saw him leave, and I _know_ what I saw in his eyes.”

Carol faltered and pulled her hands away from CJ’s.

She stood from the armchair and disappeared momentarily into the other room

“Someone in the press corps made this CD,” she said when she returned. “Songs that they associate with Danny. I made a copy for you.”

Carol turned away and then stopped. 

“Affairs of the heart linger, CJ,” she said without looking back at her. “They linger. And they eat you up inside until you've spent so much time denying them that you don’t recognize yourself any more. I have to go back upstairs.” She curled her fingers around the doorjamb. “Bring him home, CJ. Bring him home and tell him. And if you _can’t_ tell him, then at least be honest with yourself and move on.”

CJ sat in the semi-darkness of her old office until old ghosts rose to meet her.

_"I thought what I’d do is kiss you, you know, on the mouth, and then I’d just get past it. I’d just get past it, and then I’d be able to give my work the kind of concentration it really deserves._

_“Okay.”_

_“How’s right here?”_

_“That’s fine.”_

And suddenly she was back in the place where she couldn’t breathe. 

Her departure was abrupt, but it didn’t matter as there was nobody to observe it except the few people in the bullpen who weren’t paying attention to her anyway.

Margaret was sitting at her desk when she got back to her office.

“You should go home,” CJ said as she passed by.

“I’ll go home when you go home.”

She found she had no energy to argue, and simply eased herself into the chair behind her desk.

She propped the CD up against a stack of briefing books, rested her chin on top of her steepled fingers and stared at Gail.

The bowl looked desolate, the fish almost lethargic.

She took a deep breath.

“Margaret? Do you know where Carol’s tree is?”

“I have it right here.” When she appeared in the doorway she was holding it in her hand. “I fixed it."

CJ turned the tree over in her hand, and smoothed out a wrinkle in the yellow ribbon wrapped around it,

“I’ll give you your privacy,” Margaret said as she started to close the door between their offices.

“Can you ..” 

She stopped before her voice cracked completely.

“Of course. Would you like the tweezers?”

“Tweezers?”

Margaret smiled and stepped back into her office.

When she returned she was holding the longest pair of tweezers CJ had ever seen.

“So your cuffs don’t get wet,” Margaret said as she handed them to her. “I use them when I change Gail's decorations. Carol gave them to me the day she brought Gail.” 

CJ lowered the tree into the bowl and they watched together as Gail perked up.

“Octopuses like toys too,” Margaret said. “Or is it octopi? I read a study once that said they like to play with zipties.”

“Thank you, Margaret.”

Her assistant nodded and exited, but was back shortly with a cd player in her hands.

“In case you want to listen to that cd,” she said as she plugged the machine in by the couch.

CJ opened the box and looked at the insert.

Lots of names she didn’t know, but thought she recognized as music from the seventies and eighties.

And then one name she did.

For a moment she was back in High School English class with her not-yet stepmother, trying to unpack the Emily Dickinson poem.

Had someone set it to music?  
  
“Margaret ..” she said as she popped her head around the door. “Please hold any calls that may come in for me.”

Margaret nodded and went back to typing memos.

CJ put the disc in the player and moved it forward to the final track.

It was immediate sensory overload.

The music took her back to the penultimate row of a cinema in the early nineties; and to a scene on a windswept beach in New Zealand where music was a surrogate for the human voice.

There were no voices in _her_ head now, only a cinematic reel of the memories she’d been avoiding all day.

Visuals that peaked with the emotional intensity of the music - which she knew her mind was embellishing as a coping mechanism - and which she had no more mental bandwidth to resist.

“CJ ..” 

The voice sounded far away but familiar, and she turned her head towards it.

“CJ ..”

Her eyes fluttered open.

“They need you in the situation room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I got the Irish stuff right. If I didn't, someone please let me know.


	6. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The choices we make ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the decision to insert the ending of this story into the episode 'A Change Is Gonna Come' because there is one prop in there that I need. I also pulled some dialogue from the episode.

_**Hallway outside the White House Briefing Room** _   
_**Late afternoon of July 29th** _

“Nicely done,” Toby said as they stepped into the hallway.

“Nice to be able to keep a promise once in a while.”

“Relieved it’s over?”

“It’ll be over when they’re back on US soil. What I am _relieved_ about is that, for a change, nobody is hounding us for classified information.”

“You gonna tell me about that?”

“The extraction?”

“Yeah.”

“Need to know.” She smiled and patted his arm just as their paths were about to diverge. “You get points for trying, though,” she threw over her shoulder as she turned into her office.

* * *

**_The Oval Office_ **   
**_Afternoon of August 4th_ **

“How long before they land?”

CJ checked at her watch. “They landed forty-six minutes ago, Sir.”

“Debbie!”

“I’m glued to the screen, Mr. President. They haven’t come out yet,” she said from her desk.

The President turned back to CJ. 

“Let the media circus die down, let them do the morning shows and settle in, and then let’s do something in the Mural Room.”

“Staff and press corps?”

“Yeah. Followed by a private dinner in the residence. Abbey is desperate to see him. You’ll join us?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Josh, too. They go way back.”

“ _Mr. President .._ ”

CJ’s heart beat in double time as she followed him into Debbie’s office.

“ _CJ? "_

She looked left to find Kate Harper in the doorway.

“Got a moment?”

CJ hesitated, and then realized that there would be replays throughout the day on the major networks, and that she’d be better off watching in the privacy of her own office anyway.

“ _He’s lost a lot of weight_ ,” she heard Debbie say to the President as she exited into the hallway and fell into step with Kate.

* * *

“Margaret?” she called when he got back to her office.

Her assistant appeared in the doorway between their offices.

“Yes?”

“Please tell Toby and Carol that I'd like to see them.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Margaret hesitated, almost as though there was something she wanted to say.

“ _Margaret!_ "

“Okay.”

She tapped on the door a short while later.

“They’re here.”

She stepped aside to let them into the room, but didn’t leave. 

Toby cleared his throat before saying,“you wanted to see us?”

“The President wants to host a reception for Skye and Danny in a few weeks. Staff and Press in the Mural, followed by a private dinner up i-.“

“I’ll put Annabeth on it.”

“And I’ll coordinate with the Press Corps.”

The rapid fire responses made her antennae twitch.

It took her a moment to realize that Carol’s demeanour was suspiciously like Margaret’s.

“Will that be all?” Toby asked awkwardly.

“That’s it.”

“Great.” 

He was gone the next moment, and CJ found herself looking between the two other women in the room.

“I’m sorry .. _am I missing something here? "_ she asked.

Margaret chewed her lower lip for a moment and looked at Carol.

“Today would be nice.”

Her patience started to fray at the edges.

“ _Well? "_

“I gave the recording to Margaret,” Carol said quietly.

“The recording _of_ ..”

“It’s on your desk,” Margaret said before disappearing into her office and closing the door behind her.

CJ looked at Carol for further clarification, but Carol was no longer meeting her eyes.

“Is this the tape?”

She made quick work of playing it, and her breath caught when she caught sight of Skye Sinclair and Danny step into view. 

He really _had_ lost a lot of weight.

She felt Carol tense beside her, and suddenly she saw it.

The look of adoration that Skye gave Danny, and the way she slipped her hand into his as he shielded her from the onslaught of photographic light bulbs and the reporters crowding them.

The emotional shutters came down with such force that they almost threw her off balance.

“And now we know,” was all she said as she ejected the tape.

“Got another moment?”

Kate Harper was in the doorway.

“Of course. Thank you, Carol. I won’t be needing a copy of this,” she added as she handed the tape back to her.

“I finished the report on the debrief,” Kate said when her former assistant was gone and CJ had invited her to sit.

It was clear from the tone of her voice that she had something to share.

“It sounds as though there was more in it than you were expecting,” CJ said warily as she settled behind her desk.

Kate looked her straight in the eye.

“There was.”

* * *

_**The Mural Room** _

_**Wednesday, September 7th** _

_**Early eveni** **ng** _

The atmosphere at the reception was jubilant, but CJ found it nothing short of stultifying.

“You okay?” Josh asked as he held out a glass of champagne.

CJ debated telling him the truth and decided against it. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know you’re gonna have to say hello to her at some point, right?” he asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, CJ saw Carol hug Danny and take a seat on a couch next to him. Skye Sinclair was off to the side, talking to Katie Witt and Mark O’Donnell.

“Let’s do it now,” she said. “Why don’t you introduce me? Actually that’s okay, I’ll introduce myself.”

“Chief of Staff, incoming” Mark whispered to Skye as he and Katie widened the circle to make room for her.

“CJ Cregg,” she said as she extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Something CJ couldn’t put her finger on flashed across the photojournalist’s face for an instant - but she held eye contact.

“Heard you broke out the good stuff at my party,” Danny was saying to Carol across the room.

“That stuff is lethal.”

“Only the best for you, Carol.”

“It’s _so_ good to see you ..”

“You too.”

She watched his eyes scan the room until they settled on one spot, and as she’d watched him track CJ’s movements since her arrival at the reception, she knew the Chief of Staff must have moved again.

“What happens next. Will you come back?”

Danny deliberated about how honest he could or should be, and decided that he could confide in the woman before him.

“I’ve been told to expect some form of post-traumatic stress,” he said slowly “and that working in a volatile environment like the White House is not ideal.”

“What will you do?”

“We’re coming into an election year. Primaries, Super Tuesday, national conventions,” he said with a shrug. There’s always a need for reporters on the campaign trail.“

“Right.”

“How is she, Carol?”

“She’s .. _good_ ,” Carol said guardedly. “Growing into her new job.”

“She’s gonna be great at it.”

“Yes she is.”

“I need some time with her.”

“It’s not that simple any more, Danny.”

“I figured.”

“Margaret is a formidable gatekeeper."

"Believe me, I know."

"I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“So. Skye, huh?”

Danny gave her a weak smile.

“It’s easy to confuse one thing with another when you’re stuck in close proximity.”

“I’m not following.”

“She had a bad case of dysentery early on,” he explained. “I looked after her, she got better. Things settled into a rhythm of sorts. And then ..”

“And then ..” 

“And then one afternoon we .. _saw_ things that nobody should have to watch another human being endure.”

Carol instinctively reached for his hand.

“I got sick the very next day. Was out of it for a week. Excruciating pain, high fever, the works. It was touch and go there for a while. She didn’t think I was going to make it. Slipped into the role of caretaker and wouldn’t relinquish it, even when the danger was long past. I was too concerned about her mental health to crush her with the truth. It seemed unnecessarily cruel at the time .. and I'll be honest there were days I wasn’t sure we’d make it back at all.”

“How’s she doing now?”

“In therapy.' He looked around the room again. "It took her weeks to stop asking me who CJ was.”

Carol looked around and lowered her voice.

“ _You told her about CJ_?”

“Not intentionally. I was pretty delirious for a few days. She isn’t into politics, didn’t make the connection, but I think she just figured it out,” he said with a nod of his head in Skye’s general direction.

Carol looked over her shoulder and saw CJ in conversation with the journalists.

“I really need to see her, Carol.”

She took a deep breath as she assessed the new information.

“Give her a few weeks, send some pink roses. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay.”

"No guarantees. And I have to run it by Margaret."

"I understand."

“I hear you’re invited up to the residence for dinner?”

“Yeah." He looked at his watch. "The summons to the Oval will come any time now.”

“The President and the First Lady were pretty worried.”

“Of course they were,” he said with a sardonic laugh, “Who’s gonna write about their legacy if I’m not around?”

He got distracted again, and Carol squeezed his hand reassuringly.

CJ walked purposefully toward a group of people gathered around a high top table.

“Margaret ..”

"Yes?" her assistant said as she stepped towards her.

“In about fifteen minutes Debbie is going to invite Danny Concannon, Josh, and I into the Oval Office. I need you to wait three minutes and then come and get me.”

There was a hint of sadness in Margaret’s eyes, but she understood immediately.

“Okay.”

* * *

The first flowers arrived towards the middle of September. 

CJ walked into her office and stopped short at the sight of the pink roses on the table.

“Who are the flowers from, Margaret?” she said as she looked for a card among the pink roses.

“Carol brought them.”

“Carol brought me flowers? That's so sweet.”

There was a repeat performance in the second week of October. 

“ _Margaret_ , remind me to thank Carol for the flowers.”

“Okay.”

The third time she found roses in her office, on October 27th, CJ made a beeline for Margaret’s desk.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing happens round here without you knowing about it.”

She stared her down until Margaret blurted, “Danny Concannon.”

“ _What? "_

“The roses .. they’re from Danny Concannon.”

CJ took a deep breath.

“Page Carol. Ask her to come by after the briefing."

* * *

She wasn’t ready to see him or talk to him, she explained to Carol. 

He was still a reporter, and the conflict of interest which had seemed so impossibly huge when she’d been Press Secretary paled in significance to what it was now.

The arrangements stopped - but a single rose started to make an appearance instead. On days when she least expected it, but always when she needed it the most.

A reminder, in the midst of the revolving door of crises which dominated her life, that there was still something which was uniquely hers. Something which was not on public display to be dissected, analyzed, or shared.

Eventually she agreed to a phone conversation in mid-December.

She still couldn't afford the distraction, was still extraordinarily conflicted. But the roses had become a touchstone and she wanted to at least be able to say thank you in person.

She wouldn't allow herself to acknowledge that she really needed to hear his voice. It was simpler to tell herself that she wanted to be sure he was getting whatever he needed from friends and family. 

The wheels came off the bus the week President Bartlet accepted a flag representing the Taiwanese Independence Movement from the Taiwanese delegation.

_**CJ’s office** _

_**Friday, December 16th** _

_**Lunchtime** _

Things had become so complicated that she almost broke down the moment she found Leo in her office.

She looked at the visual aide that he had constructed using a wine glass, forks, a toothpick and a flag, and focused on the lesson he was trying to impart.

“China, the US, _the situation_ ,” he added as he struck a match and lit the toothpick anchoring two forks together. “Really, any situation having to do with Taiwan.”

“Hmmm ..” CJ said as the flame petered out before it reached the rim.

“ _That_ ,” Leo said as he pointed to the smouldering toothpick. “ _That’s_ _you_. That’s your _job_.”

She felt herself becoming emotional as she leaned towards him.

“You really got a lot of time on your hands now, huh?”

“You have no idea," Leo said with a smile. "But once in a while, on certain days when they take down the flag out that window at sunset, you know you did something. And that ain’t all bad.”

CJ smiled ruefully at him. 

Grateful, but cognizant that he’d added one more just layer of isolation to her job.

When lunch was over she felt him watching her as she picked up the rose lying by her plate and carried it over to the desk.

“The journalists settling back in okay?” he asked, in what she immediately identified as contrived nonchalance.

“I believe so,” she said as she dropped some food into the fishbowl.

“That from Danny?” he asked.

"The fish?"

"The flower. But I see the goldfish is still with you .."

“Gail. Her name is Gail,” she said softly, opting to ignore the first question.

He watched her for a beat longer than was necessary. Opened his mouth to speak, but then seemed to think better of it.

“Well .. this was great. I’m gonna get goin'. Got a meeting with the President soon.”

CJ came round the desk and hugged him.

“Thank you, Leo.”

“You’re doing great, CJ. You know where to find me if you need me.”

She hugged him a little tighter and then let him go.

He had just about crossed the threshold into the hallway when he turned around.

“CJ ..” 

“Yes Leo .."

His hesitation hung heavy in the air between them, and she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

“This job killed my marriage. It derailed my relationship with Jordan. There will be times you will find it hard to live with yourself and there will be nobody you can talk to about it. It will take everyone you love, chew them up and spit them out, and it will _always_ need to take precedence.”

“CJ -“

They looked up to see Margaret in the doorway to her office.

“Danny Concannon on line one.”

CJ looked up at Leo, who lingered one more moment in the doorway before giving her a grim smile and turning away.

Her hand hovered over the receiver for a brief moment, and then she balled her hand into a fist and sat down behind her desk.

“Tell him I’m busy. And Margaret?”

“Yes?”

“Tell Carol to stop the flowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about the rest of you, but I found the change in CJ in her 18 month tenure as Chief of Staff heartbreaking. Unavoidable, given the circumstances, but heartbreaking nonetheless.
> 
> This story will have a sequel, wherein we will revisit this scenario in a post-Bartlet administration setting. It will also be angsty, but CJ will be free to react however she likes because by then she'll be in an established relationship and no longer Chief of Staff.
> 
> And now I have to go think up some fluff because all of this repression has driven me nuts. If you have plot bunnies running around that you don't know what to do it, feel free to send them along to me.


End file.
